Nickle In A Creek
by Jahrtausend Schnee
Summary: Henry is a high school student with an over-active imagination. He sees things, but no one believes him. FULL SUMMERY INSIDE.
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER: **None of the characters, nor music belongs to me.

Thank you for joining me, in all my failures, for another story. Haha. I'm not very good at keeping up with things, and this idea sort of came to me after playing Silent Hill, and going through some old idea. I won't bother explaining it, but here's a full summery.

_Summery: Henry Townshend is a high school student with an over-active imagination. He sees things, but no one believes him. Teenagers are dying in duets, leaving behind the world with only one question: why suicide? Henry knows it's not suicide, he knows it's something else. Something has a hold on Seattle, and he intends to stop it. Stop it before it gets him too._

Feel free to leave comments, or what-not. This is just a little ditty. The chapters may, or may not be long. Most likely not, so expect a lot of chapters with a little bit of now on, all my notes will be at the END of the chapter. Thanks for reading.

**xXx**

**ACT ONE**

"_For the sword outwears its sheath, and the soul wears out the breast.  
And the heart must pause to breathe, and love itself have rest. "  
_Lord Byron

**Prologue  
**_"I didn't hear you say I'm sorry. The fault must be mine."_

Blood drops.

They fall to the floor. I can see each one. Drip. Drip. Drip.

They made a puddle in the tan carpet that was soaking it all up like a dehydrated man in the desert.

A body laying over the bed. Arms spread wide. Hair fanned out like dark wings from her head. Her eyes told me too many truths to be true. Her lips were parted in that surprised O.

Like she'd been caught in a lie.

Over in the corner. Against the wall. He sat there, as if he were in love with the wall. Like an Objectum-Sexual deviant, his lips pressed to the wall. I don't miss the broken tooth, or the way his head has been split down the middle. I don't miss the way his once gray shirt with the words "suck" written in permanent marker on, now stained in dark brown and red.

I don't miss the mirror. I don't want to look it, I know it will only suck me into another fantasy. But the words pressed over the cool surface beckon me, and I start walking over.

I feel the carpet below my bare feet. Rough. Not vacuumed. It tickles my toes. I walk around the red bloom from the bed, to the dresser.

Looking down, I place my hands there, knowing exactly where the girl had put them before. I'd seen her do it so many times before.

I tossed my hair over my shoulder. Like she used to do, before.

I smack my lips with my tongue. Like she used to do.

Lift my eyes.

And see the words, _incidere iugulum of virgo of proditus_.

I know what the words mean. I've seen them before. A year ago.

It was written in red lipstick. I could lift my hand and run my finger over the words. Smear the letters. Didn't erase the setting. Or the crime.

Just erased the words.

_xXx_

I ran through the park on my way back. My feet knew the ground, the setting well. The fall of the orange leaves, slowly twisting in the breeze around me, like fallen little flags of defeat.

The air was crisp, and cut my lungs, attacking me from the inside. Like a disease, it burned. But I couldn't stop.

People passed me by. I didn't see their faces.

Soon even the people would disappear into shadowy blurs.

Maybe someday I'd join them. Someday soon.


	2. Chapter One

**DISCLAIMER: **None of the characters, nor music belongs to me.

Shout outs will go here, when I have them to give!

**xXx**

**Chapter One  
**_I can't see my reflection in the water._

Henry, move the boxes this way, My father told me.

We'd moved to Seattle three months ago, but still had yet to unpack. Dad didn't ever seem to be motivated to do anything other than lay on the couch and stare at the picture on the living room table.

When I came home from school today, the picture had been turned down. I knew the significance of that symbol, and just kept my mouth shut. I don't think I ever remember having much to say in the first place.

I moved the box. Didn't feel heavy. Probably some sheets.

I watched my father unpack for the first time in six years. Unpack her china.

She'd died in a car wreck. Gone quick. No pain. I didn't believe them. I know my father didn't.

Sometimes, I thought, maybe, she shouldn't have gone. She made life miserable with her leaving.

Doesn't mean life doesn't move on.

I help him unpack the china. We move to her books next. Each one held a secret memory for my father. I could tell by his eyes. He didn't want to do this.

I didn't stop him.

_xXx_

There were sirens that caught our eyes.

My hands were heavy with the bags from the grocery store, and I wanted to keep walking, but something about the looks of those around the entrance to the ally caught my attention.

I recognized some of the people. Looking to my father, he shrugged. Turning from him, I looked back to the ally.

There was a car to my right. But it wasn't moving. The driver was trying to snoop. I didn't see why he didn't just get out of the car.

Closer to the ally I went, to see as best I could. There was yellow tape everywhere. Tears from dry eyes. Whispers and shudders.

They looked like beached merpeople. A boy and a girl. Their soaked jeans stuck their legs together.

The boy was from the science room. I'd seen him around before. The girl was a hippie from the lunchroom, protesting pepperoni pizza.

Blood had nowhere to go. It pooled around them.

Sad isn't it, said a woman to my left.

I dared to turn my head to look at her. Brown haired. She had the look of a woman who stepped off the silver screen.

Big lips, big eyes, big tits.

Young too. Maybe early twenties.

I didn't respond to her statement, but my father did.

It is, I never thought kids would be driven to this, he told her.

I know. I'm Jenny, by the way.

Markus.

They shook hands, like they were signing some pact. I watched their hands then looked up to the woman, then my father.

It was like the pact between them was me.

_xXx_

I wasn't popular in school. I sat by myself at a table, looking at the other kids. They all sat around, talking with full mouths. I could see words floating out of their mouths and bubble around their heads like a virtual chat room.

That's when they came in.

They were considered the most powerful influence in the school. Jake and Hannah. Jake was the president of the student council. Hannah was the principles daughter.

It was like a political couple with power. Like the Clintons.

But, I couldn't help but watch them as they walked by my table to theirs, with a few other people.

Of course I knew them all. Eileen, James, Harry, and Alex.

All people with power. All popular. All beautiful. Like everyone else in this school.

I looked down to my hands, and frowned at the dirt under my nails, and reached a hand up to feel the slight grease in my hair.

Wiping my fingers on my jeans, I hunched and looked back to my meal, and found myself no longer hungry.

_xXx_

In class we always discuss something important to us.

The school board says it's to try and keep 'suicide' rates down.

I leaned back in my chair and slumped a bit, trying to keep from being noticed. I didn't want to be picked to speak out.

Thank-fully I wasn't. That weird boy across the circle from me was. Walter Sullivan. He looked like a really dirty Kurt Cobain, with a bit of grease monkey thrown in.

Walt, tell me, what is most important to you, the councilor spoke.

Being called Walter.

I nodded at that, knowing what it was like to be called by something you didn't like.

Anything other than that, Walter?

Mother, he said without flinching.

I finally got a good look at his eyes from behind his dirty blonde hair.

They were a blood shot blue.

Henry, is there anything important to you? The councilor turned to me.

I looked up, and then around to the others, before shifting in my seat a bit. It was uncomfortable, under the gaze of all the others, and finally I shrugged.

Nothing at all, He pressed, his eyes looked so hopeful.

I shrugged again. I ignored the look of disappointment from him, before he moved on.

I caught Walter looking at me.

_xXx_

My dad was making spaghetti for dinner. Just him and me and a movie. Probably something light-hearted.

Something fun.

We sat in silence, eating the meal he'd prepared for us, while I got up to wash the dishes. I could hear voices from the living room, and faint snoring. He seemed to be sleeping easier these nights.

_xXx_

I woke up in blistering pain, blood bloomed over my dreams like a flower in my mind. It spread all over, and made me writhe and pant. I opened my eyes to see the ceiling, and a girl with long hair, her hair soaked in blood.

Good, you're awake. She told me, and slithered down my body, her fingers scraping my stomach. I groaned in pain, as she jammed her nails in, and twisted.

Rolling back and forth, I tried to push her off, my fingers getting caught in the knotted, soaked strands of her hair.

Someone else came up. Another woman. I couldn't see her face. Her hair, too, was soaked, and dripping.

She shoved her hand down my throat as I bucked. There was no use. It was like they had a hold of me. A hold from the inside.

They pulled hard, and I cried out, sitting up.

No one was there. There was no blood. But the pain was still there and I fell back, rolling to my side with a groan.

**xXx**

NO idea what I'm doing with this story, or where I'm going, but I'm trying to do it within a sequence. Like a movie almost. Flashes. -shrugs- whichever works.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
_"Hello? Is anyone there? I see you."_

**xXx  
**Morning, kiddo. Sleep well?

I looked up to see my father talking to me, and I blinked. He had a slight depressed aura around him, that made his eyes seem darker than the natural blue, or his hair near black, instead of pale blond. I looked like my mother. Hazel eyes, and brown hair. Nothing interesting. Nothing exciting. There were a million like me, and only a few of him.

Sure, I responded.

Good. I have some toast on the counter. It's probably a bit cold by now, he said tiredly.

I watched him pick his bag up, and head for the door, waiting for the apartment to be empty again. Before he takes a step out, I said softly,

Where am I?

He looked back at me oddly, I can see the look on his face. I was beginning to scare him.

**xXx**

My mind had been made up a long time ago. I didn't need friends. Most were superficial, and false, and rarely helped you out in any situation.

They left stains on your sidewalk soul, that you can never get out.

Turning to push the door open to English, I picked my desk, and sat down. Everything was like a darker shade than before. Gray everywhere.

I found myself looking around at the side in dismissal. There was nothing here to interest me.

As people came in, I kept my eyes busy on my paper, so they didn't think I was interested in their faces. All I see are shadows.

I like seeing faces. I feel just that much less of a loner.

Hey, some girl said to me.

I looked up to see it was no one else, but Eileen Gavin. Were it not for the pretty sculpture of her face, or the gentle proportions of her body, she'd be plain in the crowd as well. I guess she had something going for her.

I didn't respond, but turned back to my notebook.

Hey, hey, I'm Eileen. You're new, right?

Yeah, I muttered, crunching my pencil in my hand.

Cool. I've lived here my whole life. Where are you from?

Somewhere far, far away.

Like Timbuktu?

Sure.

She smiled at that, and sat back, still watching me. I felt her gaze like the ray of the sun. Burning, itching, warming, and desirable. But I didn't dare look at her, or risk being caught in her succubus eyes.

You should sit with me at lunch.

I should?

Yeah, she confirmed. And get meatloaf. We all eat the same thing.

I hate meatloaf.

Then don't eat it, just get it.

She tossed her hair while I looked at her through the corner of my eye, before turning back to my desk.

The teacher came in. She was pretty, in that, middle aged, grandmother sort of sense. The kind you felt you could trust.

Class, we'll be starting chapter five, so I want you to turn your pages, She told everyone.

I didn't have a book, so I looked at the board with my notebook. When she started, I swore I saw crabs crawling from her mouth, their shells rotted and pitted.

Stomach churning, I looked to the window, then back. The more I saw, the sicker I got.

Teacher, I asked, raising my hand.

Yes, Mr. Townshend?

I need to see the nurse.

I could tell she hated hearing that, by the red light in her eyes. But me being the new kid, she nodded to let me go.

Teacher!

Yes, Eileen?

I need to go too.

Why, Eileen?

Because my breast is sore.

Others in the class laughed, while I stumbled out of there, nearly collapsing outside the classroom. Eileen took my elbow, and smiled. It was fake.

**xXx**

Even the nurses office, felt like a one of those rooms where dead people go to be cremated. I shivered at the chill.

Now, take this twice a day. She told the student coming out with her. I recognized him instantly. Stringy blond hair, blue eyes hidden behind it, and scruffy facial hair. And, Walter…

He turned to her expectantly.

Don't forget to bathe everyday.

He didn't look amused, as I'm sure I wouldn't have either, as he started to pass me, our eyes met. His were deep. Real.

In one moment, he brought reality to my world, and I saw the school for what it was, through those eyes. Dark, broken, rotting. Students and teachers alike were all corpses. Suddenly Eileen didn't look so pretty. She looked dead, with a smashed face, on the side of a building.

I shuddered and looked away, while he paused by me, as if knowing exactly what happened, before he left, just like that.

Henry? How nice to see you again, the nurse cooed.

I looked up to see Jenny, the woman from the day before.

Hi.

He said his stomach hurts. Eileen filled in.

Thank you, Eileen, Jenny smiled and led me into the office for me to sit down on the trolley, and wait. She set a cold thermometer on my tongue, and for some reason, I clacked it against my teeth a few times. I've found the sound comforting, in the sterile office.

Temperature fine, Jenny said as she pulled the bit from my lips. No fever either. Where is it hurting?

Here.

She looked down as well, and reached over to put her hand over mine. She felt cold, and I frowned, as if seeing the tomb around us.

Might be kidney stones, I continued.

Might be. In that case, I want you to take these.

She handed me brightly colored pills, that I took in my hand and looked down, staring at. They were bright red, almost obnoxious, like a warning. When I see red, I think of stop signs. Then my mother.

I put them in my mouth instantly.

Two pills, three times a day, just before breakfast, lunch, and dinner, she told me.

I shrugged and took the bottle, hopping off the gurney.

Don't forget, Henry.

I didn't think I would.

**xXx**

Third chapter out. Finally. I'll probably work on the fourth too. =3= moi, moi.


End file.
